


One Hundred Lies

by Mamichigo



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Body Horror, Demon Kokichi, Guns, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-13
Updated: 2018-10-13
Packaged: 2019-08-01 08:50:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16281428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mamichigo/pseuds/Mamichigo
Summary: If he really thought about it, Kokichi knew that getting this invested in a human was fatal flaw, especially when he was injured and about to be found out.But Shuichi was the one interesting thing in the human world, and Kokichi couldn't just let him go.





	One Hundred Lies

**Author's Note:**

> Please make sure you read the warnings! There are also scenes that could trigger emetophobia (tho it's really lowkey, but just to be sure)
> 
> That being said, happy spooptober everybody
> 
> Edit 11/25/18: Just fixed some small typos and stuff like that

Kokichi watches the blood drip down his fingers, slowly, joining the crimson pool at his feet. Ah, he overdid it this time, didn’t he? He glanced around at all the corpses around him; quite the flashy scene, if you asked him, maybe a little too literally. It might even take him a little while to take care of all the severed body parts.

Ah, what a hassle.

He should’ve guessed not to get too carried away with things today. Well, but it was kinda their fault for annoying Kokichi way more than usual. Trying to kill a demon was a normal reaction from humans, but trying to bury him alive, really? He didn’t have great healing powers, and most of it was used to close up the stab wounds before digging his way out of his grave, so he’d have to resign himself to at least a day of torn up fingers.

What a fucking hassle.

Kokichi sighed to himself. Maybe he could just leave them there? Not like they could exactly link this to him. There’s no way such a skinny, wimp guy could have killed over ten people all by himself, right? Maybe he would even make it a locked room murder for the police to solve, that should spice things up!

Would they try to use Shuichi’s skill this time as well? Given the police’s dependence on Shuichi for anything that required more than one brain cell, it was likely that would be the case. He wondered if the detective’s psyche could even take such a murder scene, it was pretty gruesome compared to the cases he dealt with for most of his life, wasn’t it?

Maybe the scene would haunt his dreams just like the hateful eyes Shuichi seemed to see lingering in the corners. That could be amusing for a few days, but it’d be a problem if it went too far. After all, it’d be no fun if Shuichi snapped so early on.

Kokichi makes his way out of the warehouse—where some idiots who believed they were “demon hunters” gathered; at least until Kokichi killed all of them, that is—, making sure it’s completely locked before leaving the scene. He's limping slightly, but that was nothing Kokichi couldn't fix as soon as he had the power to do so.

For now, he’d focus on recovering so he could get himself patched up. Once that was out of the way, Kokichi could decide what to do about Shuichi; if he acted quickly enough, he might be able to keep the police away from Shuichi for a little while. Shuichi probably needed the break!

Not for too long, obviously, he couldn’t have Shuichi going soft on him, that’d just be a boring development after all the time Kokichi spent on him. Not that a year was a long time for a demon, but they do say the young have no patience, don’t they?

Kokichi looks down at his blood soaked skin and clothes and clicks his tongue, pulling his shirt away by the collar and wincing at the stickiness of the blood. It’d be a big problem if someone found him like this; Kokichi might not be an actual human and being arrested wasn’t exactly a danger for him, but having to start all over with a new name and background was a pain in the ass.

Not to mention that he was pretty attached to his current life. Or at least _certain_ aspects of it.

Maybe he should just retreat into an easier form to maintain until he was healed up, then keep a low profile for awhile just to be sure. While Kokichi could heal from pretty much any human inflicted injury, people would start getting suspicious if he disappeared for long periods of time, so getting attacked again was a no go.

Kokichi might be known for his lies and deceits, but humans were curious little creatures.

As soon as Kokichi finds a dark enough alley to slip into, he sags against the wall and, with one hand, starts to peel off the skin of his face. It’s a highly unpleasant feeling, especially when his fingers are already hurt, but he keeps on pulling, blood gushing out in thick drops.

It’s disgusting, and he can feel the scales under it pushing out to protect the exposed body. Just like a snake changing skin, but way more grotesquely. He clenches his jaw and suppresses a grunt when the part around his eyes comes off. The sudden change makes his eyes sensitive and Kokichi rubs them angrily.

Man, he just wanted to go home for the day and get a fucking nap, was that really too much to ask? Kokichi sighed, further sliding down the wall. His energy was quickly being drained away, and if Kokichi didn’t act quickly, he’d end up passing out right there.

On a normal day, it’d be close to impossible to sneak up on Kokichi, but his senses are slowed down and numbed, there’s a distant ringing in his ears and he’s just so stupidly exhausted. It’s not a surprise that when he hears someone call his human name, Kokichi startles, almost slipping on the blood under his feet.

Kokichi lowers his hand from his eyes, but doesn’t take it away, letting it cover the bottom half of his face. That should be enough to hide his appearance, especially in the dark as he is in at the moment. Turning his head, Kokichi narrows his eyes at the familiar silhouette.

“Saihara! What are you doing around here this late? Don’t tell me…” Kokichi gave Shuichi a once over, snickering once he was done.

“I have a feeling I don’t want to know what exactly you’re suggesting here.” Shuichi glances down at the dark liquid pooling around Kokichi’s feet, at his stained clothes and the covered face. Even with the distance between them, Kokichi can see him frown. “But I could ask you the same.”

“Is my beloved detective curious about me? How sweet! But, you know, I don’t reveal my personal life that easily.” Kokichi tilted his head and grinned in a way that, had it not been for his hand, would be exposing sharp fangs. “If you want to know, you’d have to pay me for it! I’m open for all kinds of payment, by the way.”

He even finished with a wink, but Kokichi didn’t see the usual adorable blush rise to Shuichi’s cheek. Instead, the detective’s body went rigid and he stared at Kokichi with unblinking eyes. He’d seen that same look once or twice before, when Shuichi had gotten too fixated on one of his files.

Utterly focused on his investigation and nothing more. Shit.

“I don’t have the time for jokes right now, Ouma.” Shuichi wasn’t approaching just yet, which was good. “You being here is at least suspicious, given the circumstances.”

“I’d love to have a rebuttal to that, but I don’t even know what circumstances you’re referring to.”

“I was on my way to a crime scene.”

“Shouldn’t you be checking that out then, instead of wasting my precious time?” Kokichi made a shooing motion with his hand.

“That’s what I was going to do, but I noticed movement in this alleyway, so I thought it was a good idea to check it out, since the murder happened in the warehouse just a block away from here.” Shuichi looked at him in assertive silence. “But I have a feeling you know that already.”

“Eh, and why would I? Now you’re just being absurd, Saihara, I thought you didn’t make assumptions without evidence.” A droplet of blood slides from his left eye and down his cheek just as Kokichi says that.

He winces, and the little hiss doesn’t go unnoticed by Shuichi, who perks up and stares at him intently. With his body struggling to keep up with the human form, Kokichi is thankful that it’s unlikely that Shuichi can see anything of what’s happening to Kokichi right now. 

Kokichi can’t change without removing the rest of the skin, and he can’t stay human in his current state; he’s quickly running out of options.

“I don’t,” Kokichi, who has lost himself in his thoughts, takes a second to remember what they were talking about, “but I believe my instincts. There has always been something off with you, and you always seemed to know more than you let on. Even about things that there should be no way for you to know.”

“So what, you’re gonna say I have something to do with a murder because you don’t like that I’m a know-it-all? Now that’s just lame. And desperate!” Kokichi kept his voice cheerful, even when needles started to hurt his eyes. This was so not the time.

“No, but I’d say the blood at your feet is more than a bit suspicious.”

“That’s water. I’m soaked.”

“I know what blood looks like.”

“It’s dark, how would you know? A guy can’t go skinny dipping in peace? Is that a crime now?” Kokichi struggled to stay on his feet once he pulled himself away from the wall, but stayed firm, nails sinking in on the fragile skin of his hip.

“I said I don’t have the time for games, Ouma. I’m not stupid.”

“Well, you sure seem like it! What, you’re gonna say I killed a bunch people just because I was close to where it happened? That’s stupid!” Kokichi huffed.

Silence hung heavy after Kokichi’s sentence, and Shuichi was reaching for something on his waist, hidden by his coat.

“You slipped up.” He drew his gun, pointing it directly at Kokichi’s head.

“What the hell is that even supposed to mean?” Kokichi growled, voice losing all its humor.

“I never said more than one person died.” Shuichi was walking down the alley now. “You’d need to at least see the crime scene to know that, which would make you a witness. Or an accomplice in this case, since you’re hiding evidence from the law.”

“Eh, I just had a hunch!” Kokichi tried to play it off, but knew that would never be enough to distract Shuichi, much less fool him. Not now. But his mind was getting foggy and his body was twitching, uncomfortable with the strain of holding on to this form.

“I’m a pretty lucky guy, you know?” Kokichi continued, sarcastically. The pain in his eyes got worse and he felt his pupils extend, immediately knowing there was no going back from this.

His hand finally fell away from his mouth at the same time that Kokichi’s body refused to keep standing, forcing him to drop to one knee. Kokichi looked up at Shuichi, causing the other to pause.

“What…” Shuichi whispered. It took a few seconds, but once he had processed what was happening, Shuichi tightened his grip on his gun, making sure he still had Kokichi in his aim. “What are you?”

“You’re smart. Figure it out.” It wasn’t too hard, given his now exposed jet black skin, fangs and thin pupils extended across bright purple eyes.

Shuichi didn’t reply, but he was now close enough for Kokichi to look directly at the barrel of the gun. Kokichi looked past it, into Shuichi’s eyes, and waited.

“So?”

“It doesn’t matter. How many more murders were you responsible for? Were you laughing as I struggled to find the answers, did you think it was funny to see me lose sleep when you were right there in front of me? How many of my problems were caused by you?” His fingers trembled. Even in the dark, Kokichi could see, clear as day, the tears in Shuichi’s eyes. “And how much of it was on purpose?”

Kokichi laughed. “Like you said yourself, it hardly matters, does it?”

“Of course it does! You—”

“Lied? Manipulated you? Toyed with you? You were going to say one of those, or maybe all of those. Maybe I know you, maybe I just know people in general.” _Maybe you were never special_. “You can believe whatever you want.”

“How can you be so calm about it? None of it mattered for you, did it? I thought, I was so sure… I lov—!”

“Make a decision,” Kokichi interrupted before Shuichi could finish that. “Shoot, or don’t. Decide.”

“I—”

Kokichi yanked Shuichi’s hand forward, until the gun was pressed to his forehead, the coldness of it almost soothing when his entire body hurt. He grinned. “Shoot. Or don’t.”

Shuichi didn’t move, perfectly still, only his hands trembling, forefinger uncertain on the trigger. Kokichi was tired of waiting, tired of watching time pass, just _tired_.

“You’re usually so determined where it matters, but I guess expecting you to shoot me was wishful thinking on my part.” Kokichi sighed, but caressed Shuichi’s hand, still shaking under his, both of them holding the gun. “You shouldn’t get attached so easily, you know? It’ll be your downfall one of these days.”

It was taking all of his willpower not to choke with the blood at the back of his throat. It was a surprise that Kokichi hadn’t thrown up yet; he needed to be out of this body and quick, the pain had been nearing on unbearable for a few minutes now. He smiled.

“Lucky for you, Shuichi, I’m a generous guy. So, you don’t need to choose at all.” He stopped stroking Shuichi’s hand, and the detective was now frowning in confusion, trying to pull the gun away. Kokichi didn’t let him.

“I’ll do it for you.” His thumb trapped Shuichi’s forefinger.

“Don’t—!”

The gunshot was the last thing he heard.

Well, at least for a few minutes. Once Kokichi came to, he saw his own body, lifeless on the floor, and Shuichi kneeling by it, shell-shocked. Well, that’d leave an emotional scar for sure. If Kokichi had eyes at the moment, he’d be rolling them; _maybe_ shooting himself wasn’t the best idea.

Miu had always said he’s way too dramatic, but Kokichi had better things to do than listen to horny sex demons. Oh, well.

 

* * *

 

Shuichi couldn’t bring himself to move. His phone has been vibrating in his pockets for awhile now; probably a call from the police force, the one he should be with by now. But Shuichi couldn’t move, not when Ouma was lying dead on the floor.

The face barely had any of Ouma’s human features, but it was still undeniably him, even with the blank purple eyes. It barely looked like the same person who would hang out with him, who would sometimes offer a coffee or smile when he gave Shuichi a slice of cake. There was no resemblance of the sincere but small smiles he’d give sometimes in the sharp fangs, but the memory was all that filled Shuichi’s mind at the moment.

There was blood all over the ground, dark red, almost black in the dark. Ouma was dead and Shuichi was about to throw up.

“Hey, c’mon, stop making that face, you’re even making _me_ depressed.”

Shuichi jumped, gun clattering to the ground. He panted, sharply looking around, but there was no one there. Oh god, was he going _insane_ now? That’d just be perfect, wouldn’t it? It was somehow fitting for someone like him. Shuichi laughed, wobbly and pathetic.

“You’re making it worse, seriously, stop it.” Shuichi jumped again, but this time he went for his gun, grasping it tightly and pointing at the dark ahead of him. “You can’t shoot me with that now, you know.”

“O-Ouma…?” He glanced at the corpse still close to him. “That’s impossible…!”

“I mean, yeah, not from that body, I’m not there. It’s gonna take awhile till I can go back to the flesh sack.” There was a sound, like wind blowing, but different. A sigh…? “And I actually like that form. But, well…”

Shuichi didn’t understand what was happening at first, but soon enough he realized the blood under Ouma was seeping into the ground and his shadow expanding, moving. Soon enough, there was a silhouette standing against—no, _in_ the brick wall, a shadow with no body.

“This form has its charms as well, don’t you think?” The shadow was now floating, chin on its palms, and Shuichi was sure it was smiling, even without a mouth.

“How?” He croaked.

“I’m not human, as you can guess! This is one of my three forms. I’m kinda bound to this form until my body heals, so.” Ouma was kicking his legs in the air as he lazily floated around.

Shuichi inhaled carefully; it felt like he was close to hyperventilating, but his mind was strangely calm. He exhaled. Ouma wasn’t dead, Ouma wasn’t human. Ouma is…

“…Responsible for countless murders.”

“Hm? What was that?”

“You… This doesn’t stop you. You’ll be back.”

“Yup! No human weapon can actually kill me!”

Shuichi’s hands were numb as he clutched them harder and harder, until they were drained of all color.

“Shuichi?” Ouma called, and Shuichi ignored the way his name appeared on the wall, followed by a heart.

“I… Don’t understand what you’re doing, or what you want to achieve with this, but I know—” Shuichi closed his eyes, breathed in once again. “I know I can’t let you get away.”

“Oh?” Curious questions marks appeared around Ouma as he tilted his head. “What are you planning to do then, mr. detective?”

This would be a shot in the dark, a hunch without enough evidence, just like Ouma had accused him of doing earlier. But it was all he had, so Shuichi would take the risk.

“Make a contract with me.”

Ouma stilled, and even without any eyes, Shuichi could feel his stare. Ouma snickered.

“That’s a bold thing to say.”

“That’s what demons do, isn’t it?” Shuichi knew next to nothing about the occult besides what he would sometimes see in fiction, and he hadn’t even confirmed if that was indeed what Ouma was.

“Do you even know how a contract works?”

“It doesn’t matter. If it’s my soul you want, I’ll give it. If it’s something else, I’ll give it as well. I don’t care.”

“Why would you go that far?”

“Because it’s my duty to protect others, no matter the cost.”

“Only that?”

“Only that.”

The answer didn’t seem to please Ouma as the shadows shook aggressively around his now undefined shape; what seemed like snakes shot up from the center, baring its teeth threateningly. But, once it realized that Shuichi wasn’t moved by it, all the snake heads collided to form Ouma’s silhouette again.

There was a sound again, a low and constant sound, like hissing.

“If that’s what you want, I can do it, but there’s no mercy to be had if you regret it later.”

“As long as it stops you from harming humans in any way, then I’m fine with it.”

“That can only stop me while you’re still alive.”

“It’s good enough.”

Ouma didn’t say anything, but symbols started appearing around him in a perfect circle, lighting up like burning fire. Ouma extended a hand, then the other, coming free from the wall, a body of shadow. He gripped both of Shuichi’s wrists, the touch so cold that it burns, like holding an ice cube for too long.

The shadow approached, and the hissing was still audible, but now mixed with low laughing. When he was close enough, Ouma touched Shuichi’s lips with what would be his own, shadows spreading to inside the detective’s body, spilling from his eyes.

It was suffocating, it was painful, it made his lungs shrink and his throat collapse. Shuichi tried to scream, but what came out was only panicked, muffled noise. His eyes were wide open as he stared at the shadow.

The laughing got louder. Something gripped Shuichi’s ankle, his eyes snapping down to find the source of the touch. Ouma’s body, still empty, but with human skin recovering itself around the bullet wound, was smiling up at him.

“You’re mine now,” it said as it clutched Shuichi harder.

Possessively.

**Author's Note:**

> [Find me on tumblr!](https://mamichigo.tumblr.com)


End file.
